


penny for fair winds

by hoeunki



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Actual plot??, Alternate Universe - Cruise Ship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Plot, Some Humor, waiter!lucas, xiaojun hates boujee capitalists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-13 16:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21000878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoeunki/pseuds/hoeunki
Summary: In the midst of a life crisis, Xiaojun unexpectedly wins a ticket for a cruise ship vacation and is overwhelmed by the luxury life, the snobbish upper class, and the smile of a handsome waiter who can't seem to stop talking to him.Lucas, on the other hand, is inevitably intrigued by the young man who eats every meal alone at a table for two.





	penny for fair winds

**Author's Note:**

> hello prompter of prompt #246 i took a lot of liberties with this fic and got extremely carried away but i hope you like it nonetheless <3
> 
> title: penny for your thoughts + fair winds, which means safe weather, good fortune (in some nautical dictionary) 
> 
> also this is very unbeta-ed so sorry in advance

If Xiaojun were in an anime, he'd be one of those side characters that appear in two or three episodes, whose name you never remember but could probably recognize if you stared at his face long enough. 

Now it wasn't like he didn't have confidence in himself; he had grades that pleased his parents, participated in a variety of co-curriculars, and was relatively good looking (or at least, he'd received multiple compliments pertaining to his eyebrows and jawline). 

But the problem with being decent at everything was that he lacked passion. Choir was fun and Xiaojun liked singing, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to pursue it in the future. Astronomy could be interesting, but he worried about the usefulness of his degree for his family. He was at that stage of life where all your relatives ask “So what are you planning to do in university?” at every family gathering and are completely clueless about the multiple life crises that you internalize in the toilet every ten minutes. 

As he stepped off the train with the afternoon sun hot against his back, Xiaojun found himself having another one of these life crises. He had just gotten back from a lunch appointment in the city with one of his middle school friends, who was now pursuing his entrepreneurial dreams of founding a startup. He’d been forced to sit there in a pricey cafe, listening to this guy brag about how great his life was going and some expensive rug in his new apartment that Xiaojun couldn’t give two shits about.

It was almost the end of his gap year. He’d spent the whole time trying out menial part-time jobs (everything from tutoring elementary kids to dog-sitting to washing dishes at a noodle shop), hoping that somewhere along the way he’d receive an epiphany from the heavens. It was silly, he knew, to wish that one day he’d wake up in bed and suddenly know what he wanted to do with his life. 

Xiaojun walked down the old, cracked roads that led from the one-platform train station to the rest of his neighborhood. He trudged past the grocery store, the church, the playground that he used to play alone in when he was a child. It was funny, he thought to himself, how he managed to feel so helplessly lost on roads that he knew like the back of his hand. Like a leaf floating on the wind, hoping to find someplace safe to land one day. 

His hand was on the lock of his front gate when a bicycle bell rang to his right. Xiaojun looked up to see the mailman approaching. 

“Dejun, hello!” he greeted cheerily. The mailman handed over a stack of envelopes and gave him a pat on the back before cycling off. There were only three people who manned the neighborhood post office, including him, so Xiaojun never saw him for more than two minutes at a time.

Xiaojun looked down at the envelopes. Random flyers, assorted bills, nothing of interest. As usual. 

Or so he thought.

As he shut the gate behind him, Xiaojun pulled the last envelope out. It was very plain, but the oddest thing about it was that it was addressed to him, full name and correct postal code and everything. He hardly ever got mail, especially in the summer.

Tucking the rest of the mail under his armpit as he stepped into the hallway, he used the jagged edge of his house key to cut it open. Something fluttered to the ground; a tiny piece of paper that looked like a ticket. Curious, he bent over and picked it up. A large cruise ship on beautiful blue waves was embossed on the front. On the back, a bunch of tiny words were printed. 

“Mom?” Xiaojun called. He fished out the letter inside and unfolded it, raising his eyebrows at the succinct sentences.

_ Congratulations! _

_ You are one of the lucky few who are fortunate enough to have been picked during our lucky draw. _

_ Enjoy this fabulous, one-week cruise of a lifetime! From circus performances to dolphin watching, we have it all! _

_ Dreams come true aboard the S.S. Vision <3 _

_ Yours truly, _

_ Captain Nakamoto Yuta. _

“Dreams come true, huh…” Xiaojun muttered as his mom shuffled out from the kitchen. “I don’t even know what dreams I’m trying to chase.”

“Dejun! What’s that you got there?” She peered at the ticket and gasped in delight. “Oh! I can’t believe you won!”

As she pulled him into the dining room, she explained excitedly how she had entered his name into a competition that she saw on the back of a sketchy cereal box that she had mistakenly bought while grocery shopping. 

“I didn’t think anything was going to come from it, but what do you know! Fate works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?” Her eyes were bright, and somehow Xiaojun couldn’t stop staring at the ticket in his hand. What kind of competition only gave one ticket and not two? How stingy.

“You should start packing,” his mother said, pushing him towards his room. “You have to be at the port in two days! And that’s at least a half day’s worth of travelling.”

Her excitement seemed to be rubbing off on Xiaojun. As he pulled out his suitcase and began tossing clothes in, he thought about sailing the ocean. Feeling the wind on his hair. Maybe having a few drinks at the bar with a pretty stranger. Perhaps this trip was just what he needed—a getaway from all of his problems and worries. The evening wind blew in through his open window and Xiaojun shivered. 

Yeah, he definitely needed some warm ocean air.

“Whoa,” Xiaojun breathed, as the taxi pulled up to the port. Past the fish market there was a long boardwalk and at the very end of it was this behemoth of a ship, glistening white with too many windows to count and the words _ S.S. Vision _ emblazoned on the side. Tourists and rich people alike bustled along, queuing in messy lines behind velvet ropes. 

His mother paid for the ride and out they climbed, immediately being greeted by the salty scent of the sea. Now that he was seeing the ship in person, he felt incredibly tiny with his one backpack and suitcase. 

“Have fun!” Xiaojun’s mom said, squeezing him tightly. “Tell me when you reach Tokyo and I’ll have your aunt pick you up, okay?”

Xiaojun kissed her forehead and smiled. “Will do.” 

He started along the boardwalk when his mom yelled, “And don’t do anything dangerous!”

“I won’t!” he shouted back, earning a few glares from the people nearby. Xiaojun smiled sheepishly and ducked his head. 

He handed his ticket over to the employee waiting at the front of the ship. The man scanned it for a few seconds before stamping it and gesturing to the ramp that led up, up, up to the main entrance of the boat.

“Enjoy your trip!” 

If you have a mother that tends to overpack things, you’d understand the difficulty that Xiaojun faced as he hauled his suitcase up the ramp with no one to help him. He had one eye on the wobbly floor, praying that he wouldn’t somehow trip and plummet to his death, and the other on the people behind him, who didn’t look too impressed. 

With a loud grunt, he collapsed in what seemed to be the lobby. A receptionist sat at the front desk alongside multiple employees answering calls. 

“Wow,” he murmured to himself, taking in the high ceiling and glittering chandelier, the gold embellishments on the lamps, the leather waiting chairs. It was as if he stepped into a whole new world.

“Can you not just stand there?” a woman with a fancy updo huffed, pulling her young, Balenciaga-clad child along as she pushed past Xiaojun. He stumbled a bit but caught himself before he fell. Quickly, before any more irritable women came behind him, Xiaojun went to the front desk and presented his letter and ticket. 

“Hi… I was just wondering which room I’d be staying in? The ticket didn’t really say-”

“Room 116, which is on the fifth floor in the south wing,” the lady chirruped after taking one glance at his ticket and sliding him a keycard. “Thank you and have a nice day!”

Xiaojun blinked in confusion as she turned her attention to an elderly couple who were searching for the bingo hall. He looked around and spotted a blue sign reading SOUTH WING next to a vending machine that was very cleverly stocked with drinks from various countries. Sighing to himself, he lugged his suitcase behind him and hoped that his room wasn’t difficult to find.

How wrong he was. 

The South Wing was apparently home to all sorts of amenities, and some of the rooms were hidden between them. For example, there were rooms next to the towel store and the spa, and ones with noise cancelling walls behind the theatre. Whoever designed the layout had some strange ideas because there were multiple floor fives. There was floor 5.1 to 5.4, and Xiaojun had no clue where his room was located.

He was turning a corner on floor 5.3 when he ran into someone. 

“Oof!” said the young man, who was slightly taller than Xiaojun. He straightened his hoodie out and Xiaojun took a good look at the person, realising that he was just a kid. Bright eyes, pale skin, an old band t-shirt.

“Sorry about that,” Xiaojun bowed. 

The kid dropped the hood down to reveal a head of white blonde hair. “It's cool. I probably shouldn't have been playing on my phone while walking.” He noticed the ticket and letter in Xiaojun's left hand. “Looking for your room? I can help you.”

“Oh thank you! I've been so lost for the past 20 minutes. I'm in room 116.” 

The boy pulled up a map on his phone and squinted at it. “Here it is! You're on the right floor, at least.”

He turned and began walking. Xiaojun wondered how one could be so confident while walking these halls. He felt as if they were in a labyrinth, turning corner after corner and never quite getting to the right place. 

“What's your name?” the kid asked suddenly. “I'm Chenle.” 

“Xiao Dejun. I usually go by Xiaojun so feel free to call me that.”

Chenle smiled. “Xiaojun, huh? I like it. Catchy. Ah, here we are.”

They stopped outside a sleek, wooden door with the numbers 116 written on a plaque shaped like a seashell. Xiaojun swiped his key and pushed the door open, Chenle trailing in behind him. 

"Ooh~" Chenle remarked, running a hand along the deep blue shelves that held a small TV, a decorative radio and a few magazines. The bed was pushed against the oval window which was facing the harbor. A door on the left led to a small bathroom. 

"This bed is nicer than the one I have at home," Xiaojun said wistfully, hugging one of the pillows to his chest. 

"Well, I'll leave you be. My parents are probably looking for me. Hey, that rhymed!" giggled Chenle. 

Xiaojun smiled and ruffled his hair. There was something infectious about his smile. "I'll see you around, kid."

As soon as Chenle left, the speakers crackled. 

_ "Attention all passengers, this is your Captain speaking. Welcome aboard the S.S. Vision! We will be departing the port shortly so do not be alarmed by the very loud horn that will sound in a few minutes. Enjoy your cruise and don't hesitate to say hi to me if you spot me around! Nakamoto Yuta, signing off." _

The rest of the day was spent locating the library, which was disappointingly small but surprisingly updated, and catching up on some new books from his favorite authors. In the late afternoon he took some photos of the sunset from a viewing deck, observed a bartender as he mixed flaming drinks for his customers, and bought a little fan as a souvenir for this mother. 

Xiaojun entered the dining hall at approximately 8:47, a fact which was so trivial and of little importance, but Xiaojun had a habit of taking note of the most mundane of details so it didn't matter either way. 

He sat down at a table for two and observed his surroundings. The dining hall was large (this was one of many eateries around the ship), contemporary in its choice of decoration with monochrome flooring and greyish walls, cubic lamps and minimalist chandeliers that served more as dim mood lights.

Xiaojun flipped through the menu, reading carefully at the fine print underneath the fancy French and Italian dishes in the European section. He was contemplating the grilled peach and arugula salad when a deep voice spoke.

"Do you want to order now, or perhaps wait a few more minutes for your companion?" 

Xiaojun wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see when he looked up. A middle-aged man, perhaps, with smile wrinkles next to his eyes and glasses perched on the very edge of his nose. Maybe someone a little younger, chirpy and bubbly and too excited to be stuck serving snooty cruise-goers. 

Definitely not a composed guy who looked like he stepped out of a fashion magazine for waiters. Handsome and boyish, big ears, a close-lipped smile. 

Xiaojun's felt his heart stutter for the briefest of moments.

"Oh," he said after a pregnant pause, feeling a little dumb for letting the attractive guy wait in silence. "I'm eating alone, actually. 

The waiter - Lucas, said his name tag - nodded. "My apologies. Would you like to order, then?"

Xiaojun scanned the menu one last time and selected the _ gratin dauphinois _, stumbling over the vowels as he attempted to pronounce it. Lucas merely nodded and scribbled on his notepad, flashing him a smile before whisking off to the kitchen.

Sitting in the dining hall and watching the other patrons converse and move around inspired Xiaojun to take some notes. He could probably use this material in a future story. 

He was busy noting the color of the chairs and napkins with accompanying doodles in his journal when Lucas appeared again, a glass of champagne in hand. 

"Here you go." His smile was dangerous. Dangerously cute. 

Xiaojun would've liked to chat a little more with Lucas, but before he could strike up conversation the waiter had disappeared to the other end of the room, happily attending to a young couple and their two toddlers. There was something about the scene, something about the way the child grabbed Lucas' finger that made Xiaojun's heart warm. 

And the little flutter in his stomach? Definitely not because of Lucas' brilliant smile, not at all. 

For the first time in four years, Xiaojun found himself waking up at eleven. The sun, already high in the sky, fell in beams across the pristine sheets, and the sound of seagulls squawking made Xiaojun feel as though he were a prince of a tropical paradise. He took a leisurely shower in steaming hot water before making his way back to the same dining area, where groups were already gathered for the brunch specials. 

He sat at a different table for two, this time close to the edge of the ship, placing his notebook and pen down to reserve it before circling the buffet table. A delectable array of seafood was spread out: steaming lobsters, plump crab claws, layers after layers of oysters and scallops-- Xiaojun hadn't seen this much seafood in his life. He took a modest amount of everything along with a glass of orange juice back to his table, making sure to snap a pic of the food to send back to his family. 

Xiaojun opened his notebook to a fresh page, smoothing it out before writing the date on the top. Instead of picturing a story he began penning lyrics, lyrics about the ocean and the wind in his hair. It spiralled into a funny little song about a coconut bra-wearing pirate queen and her army of squid. As he went to get a refill of his drink, humming the tune softly, he spotted Lucas a few meters away, kindly refilling an old man's cup of tea. Xiaojun filled his own glass and turned to go back to his table, but he made the mistake of glancing once more at Lucas, completely missing a man in a posh white outfit standing up in his moment of distraction. Xiaojun walked straight into him, gasping as the contents of his glass sloshed out and onto the guy’s front, spilling down the blue silk of his shirt and tie.

The guy, a little taller than Xiaojun with luscious black locks and a nicely curved nose, looked down at the massive stain being absorbed by his white suit jacket in silence. Xiaojun stood very still, clutching his glass tightly, cheeks burning in shame as people around them began to whisper. 

“I-I’m so sorry,” Xiaojun stuttered, scrambling to grab some nearby tissues. “Here, let me–”

“Don’t,” the stranger snapped, sharp enough to make Xiaojun flinch. He eyed Xiaojun up and down, lingering on his 4 year old sneakers, scrutinising him like a piece of meat on the grill. 

“Do you know,” he said slowly, drawing each word out as if Xiaojun couldn’t understand Mandarin, “how much this outfit costs?”

Xiaojun bit his lip. “I–”

“You’re lucky I’m not going to charge you for dry cleaning,” he continued, displeasure evident on his young features. “This suit jacket is probably worth more than 2 years of tuition at your dream university.” He said no more, huffing as he pushed past Xiaojun and stormed out of the hall. 

Thoroughly embarrassed and a little bit upset at the snobbish man’s words, Xiaojun sped to his table and grabbed his belongings. Nevermind that he didn’t get to try the parfaits; he’d rather be anywhere but here.

A gentle hand touched his arm and Xiaojun looked up to see Lucas with the smallest hint of a smile on his face. 

“Just ignore him. He’s just being a pompous brat.” Xiaojun barked out a sudden laugh at his candid choice of words and slapped a hand over his mouth. Lucas chuckled. “Have a nice day…”

“Dejun,” he replied hastily. “I’m Dejun. You can call me Xiaojun if you want.”

“Dejun,” Lucas repeated, trying it out, and Xiaojun couldn’t remember the last time he felt like blushing simply after hearing his name being spoken. “Have a nice day, Dejun. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” he said, a touch breathless, only after Lucas had vanished again. He scurried away from the dining hall, ears red for a completely different reason now, and prayed to not make a fool of himself for the rest of the cruise. 

It was difficult to find a quiet spot on the boat. There were tourists roaming everywhere, a constant bombardment of light and music in nearly every corner. He tried going back to the library but all of the good seats were taken by diligent students dragged on family trips or couples engaged in makeout sessions.

Xiaojun ended up on a lounge chair by one of the smaller pools, tucking himself in the shade of a palm tree. He plugged his earphones in and began to draft new ideas on an old story outline. Occasionally he’d take a sip from his virgin piña colada, making sure to keep it close to him in case it somehow spilled onto another haughty rich kid. 

He was a few pages into a scene when a shadow appeared by his shoulder. 

"Ooh~" sang a cheerful voice, "Whatcha writing, hot stuff?"

Instinctively, Xiaojun slapped his book shut, looking up into a dazzling grin with too many teeth, heart pounding because he'd just been writing a sappy scene and no one needed to read _ that _. His reaction seemed to amuse the boy as he laughed, loud and a little obnoxious. Xiaojun wasn't sure whether he wanted to chuckle along or run away.

Xiaojun scratched his neck. "Do you… need something?" All of his encounters on the cruise thus far had been less than ideal (sans Chenle and Lucas, of course) so Xiaojun was trying to be wary of how he interacted with people. 

"I do, actually," the stranger said, calming down and taking a seat on the deck chair next to Xiaojun. "I need a partner to play Dance Dance Revolution with." 

At first, Xiaojun thought he was joking. That maybe this guy was just bored and looking for an unsuspecting person to pull a fast one on. But as seconds passed and the stranger's face didn't twitch, Xiaojun realised that he was dead serious. 

He glanced around at the other cruise goers having fun in the pool, taking pictures with the endless turquoise ocean, applying copious amounts of suntan cream on their exposed skin. In contrast, he was just huddled away from the sun's rays like a hermit, not bothering to make friends. Xiaojun looked at the guy in front of him, wearing a buttoned Hawaiian shirt and Gucci slippers. He seemed pretty harmless. Why not, right? 

Xiaojun cleared his throat. "Sure?"

The boy lit up, smiling that megawatt grin of his. "Great! You're a lifesaver, bro." 

As he grabbed Xiaojun's hand, Xiaojun wondered what could possibly be at stake for this supposedly very important DDR match and whether he was putting this dude at a disadvantage. Because he wasn't a dancer, not at all. He was a singer, an author, a loser who only danced when he cleaned the house with headphones on.

"My name's Dejun, by the way. I don't dance."

"Liu Yangyang," introduced the other boy as he dragged Xiaojun through the arcade entrance, dodging all the small boys and couples by the basketball hoops and claw machines. "And don't worry. You have the rhythm in your soul. I can see it in your eyes."

_ How _, he would've liked to ask, because he was pretty sure his eyes were focused on his notebook the moment Yangyang decided to pester him. But it probably didn't matter. Yangyang said it with such assurance that for a moment, Xiaojun actually believed him.

Deep, deep into the arcade they went, and Xiaojun marveled at the number of games they had. Tekken, some shooting games, candy roulettes, racing ones, everything his childhood self would've loved to play. Yangyang turned one more corner and came to a stop in front of the big machine, _ Dance Dance Revolution _glowing in bright neon letters.

"My dance partner couldn't make it because something came up last minute. But don't worry, we can totally kick some Korean ass together, right?” Yangyang cracked his knuckles.

Xiaojun swallowed. “Um, sure?”

“Who’s this new guy?” a voice sneered in lilted Chinese, and Xiaojun turned to see a pink haired boy staring him down. Beside him stood a black haired guy with a mole on his cheek, a little less frightening in his expression but with defined arms that intimidated Xiaojun. Just a bit, of course.

Yangyang pulled Xiaojun closer to him, puffing his chest out as he glared up at them. “He’s my partner for today, boys. I hope you don’t have a problem with that.” His English came out with a slight accent but a surprising fluency.

Pink Hair rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Jeno and I are going first.” 

As they took the stage and selected a song, Yangyang turned to Xiaojun. “Just because Na Jaemin’s father owns the arcade he thinks he’s hot shit.”

Xiaojun nodded. That kind of explained his arrogance. 

“I mean yeah he’s hot. But he’s a piece of shit too,” Yangyang muttered under his breath. True to Yangyang’s words, Jaemin and Jeno were undeniably attractive as they danced to the upbeat, bubbly tune of a vocaloid track. Synchronised in every movement, rarely misstepping, they moved with such ease and precision that Xiaojun found it difficult to look away. A small crowd had begun to form around them, and Xiaojun’s palms began to sweat as he realised he too would be performing in front of all these watchful eyes. 

The song ended with the machine displaying a golden A on the screen as their final score. Jeno and Jaemin exchanged a high five as they stepped down. 

Jaemin leaned towards Yangyang as they passed by. “Have fun trying to beat that, babe.” Jeno simply offered a polite smile and walked after Jaemin into the crowd of fans hyping them up.

“C’mon, Xiaojun.” Yangyang yanked him up onto the platform. “Don’t worry about beating them because we probably won’t. But have fun, okay?” 

His words eased the tension in his shoulders and Xiaojun decided to just go for it and enjoy himself, trying to keep up with Yangyang’s quick feet as they danced to Dua Lipa’s _ New Rules. _Yangyang threw in a few improvised moves that received cheers from the audience, and although Xiaojun missed a few steps, Yangyang helped him to laugh it off.

By the end of the three minutes, Xiaojun was sweaty and tired. Yangyang pulled him in for a hug, a massive grin on his face after seeing the glowing B.

“You did really well, dude! I was lowkey worried--"

“Yangyang!" shouted a voice amidst the dissipating crowd. "Sorry I had to miss the match bro, this absolute _ asshole _spilled juice on m-"

Xiaojun's mouth dropped open as the guy from the morning buffet stepped into view, this time wearing a cream sweater vest on top of a white long sleeved shirt. 

"_ You _," they simultaneously hissed. If Yangyang hadn't been there, Xiaojun might've pounced on the guy. 

Yangyang grinned. "You guys have already met? That's great! Hendery, this is Xiaojun. He's really cute! And he dances pretty well."

Hendery glared at him with blatant disgust. "This idiot ruined my suit this morning. I'm surprised he could even follow you here given his lack of spatial awareness and inability to walk."

"Sorry I ruined your breakfast," Xiaojun said between his teeth, hands curled into fists as he calmed himself. "But you probably didn't want anymore of that salad. I think another course would be good for you. Like a course on manners."

Hendery's eyes flashed. "How dare you-"

Yangyang stepped between them before Hendery could lunge at Xiaojun's neck. "Hey, now! Let's all be friends! How's dinner sound?" 

Hendery folded his arms and huffed. "I'm not going anywhere with _ this _."

Xiaojun smiled apologetically at Yangyang. "It's okay, Yangyang. I'm not a fan of rats." Hendery sputtered at that and Xiaojun walked off, feeling slightly proud at having the last word. 

"Maybe another time!" Yangyang yelled.

Dinner came quick, and this time Xiaojun sat at the outdoor area, finding an inconspicuous table away near the bathroom sign. It had a lovely view of city lights twinkling far on the horizon, each white and yellow speck like a firefly. He was looking through the menu (Mediterranean, was tonight’s special) when the chair in front of him was pulled back. 

“Sorry, is this seat taken?” 

Xiaojun glanced up and nearly dropped the menu at the sight of Lucas, neatly dressed in his usual waiters outfit, hair styled up, earrings glinting in the low light. He swallowed. 

“You can sit,” he feebly responded. “No one’s coming.”

Lucas smiled and sat down. He took his waiter’s napkin and folded it, placing it on his lap before leaning forward. He stared at Xiaojun with interest, but Xiaojun found it difficult to meet his piercing gaze.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Xiaojun asked, finally getting the courage to look at the handsome waiter._ How was it possible for his eyes to sparkle like that? _

Lucas waved nonchalantly. “Nah. We got loads of people tending to tables. No one really cares if I sit down for a couple minutes. Besides, I wanted to talk to you.” His voice got soft towards the end, a shy blush appearing on his cheeks at the confession. The sight made Xiaojun’s heart stutter.

“Me?” Xiaojun raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t anyone interesting; he was just some guy from a faraway village with no impressive backstory. 

Lucas nodded. “Yeah. I got curious about seeing you eating alone last night. Cruises are usually a family event, right?”

Xiaojun explained his situation—the cereal box, the lucky draw, the single ticket—and it seemed to amuse Lucas.

“So are you working now?” Lucas asked, genuinely curious. “Or like, do you go to university?”

Xiaojun sighed at the dreaded question. “Neither. I kind of quit my old job at a karaoke bar because it was draining me and I only just submitted my application for the fall semester at some university in the neighboring city.”

“You don’t seem happy about that,” Lucas remarked, taking a sip of his pink lemonade (they had ordered somewhere in the middle of Xiaojun’s story). 

“I mean,” he jabbed at one of the truffle fries with a fork, “I just don’t think my heart’s very into the whole studying thing. Not after high school, at least.”

Lucas popped a fry into his mouth. “I see.” Xiaojun was grateful that he was observant enough not to pry, because that was a can of worms that he definitely didn’t need opening on their first dinner together.

“Yeah. My parents can’t really afford to send me overseas but that’s alright I guess. At least Early Childhood Education will get me a job somewhere.”

He wanted to take music or literature, but there was a lot of uncertainty with those majors. If he couldn’t secure a job after college, it would be even more difficult to support his family on top of repaying his student debt. 

“How about you?” Xiaojun asked. He’d been so curious about Lucas; wondered where he came from (because of his accent), wondered how a young guy like him ended up working on a cruise ship in the summer instead of strutting on runways (but maybe he had a part time job, who knows). “How’d you end up waiting on rich assholes in the middle of summer?”

Lucas hummed thoughtfully, drumming his fingers against the bottom of his glass. “My dad got me this job. Through a friend of a friend, he said. I had nothing better to do back home so here I am,” he chuckled, leaning back on his chair. 

“And where is home, exactly?”

Lucas smiled. “An apartment in Hong Kong. Nothing fancy.”

‘Nothing fancy’ sounded like something rich people said when they pretend to be modest. It was easy for Xiaojun to picture Lucas sprawled on an expensive leather chaise lounge with servants rushing around to refill his drink as he stared out at the waves of Deep Water Bay. He could picture Lucas, dashing and chic in a crisp suit, laughing over business conversations with a flute of champagne in hand. But part of Xiaojun hoped for him to be different, to be an average guy who grew up in a cramped shophouse or one of Hong Kong’s tiny apartments and knew the struggle of working twelve hour shifts every day, coming back home exhausted, barely keeping up with school and social life, never having time for himself.

He wanted Lucas to be like him. 

“Nothing fancy,” Xiaojun repeated. 

Lucas shook his head. “Grew up in a pretty close knit, middle-class neighborhood. I befriended all the cats in the alleyways.”

“But your father somehow got you a job on a high class boat?”

“Connections with the right people work wonders, I suppose.”

“I see.”

They talked for a while longer, Lucas telling Xiaojun about how he studied Hospitality and Tourism Management because he was always interested in meeting people from all over the globe. Xiaojun found out that he was half Thai and heard the very lovely story about how Lucas’ parents met in Thailand.

Time passed, and Lucas had to rush back to his work. He bid Xiaojun a good night with a hopeful, “See you again tomorrow?” and hurried off before he got scolded. 

As Xiaojun walked back to his room, he thought back to their little impromptu dinner date. Lucas wasn’t only handsome; he was intellectual and funny and easy to talk to. Xiaojun bit his lip, knowing that the next few days were going to be extremely difficult for his heart. Lucas was making it way too easy to fall in love with him. 

“Hey! It’s you!” said a voice from in front. 

Xiaojun squinted to see Chenle with his hair dyed pastel purple. “Oh, hi. Nice hair.”

“Thanks,” the kid beamed. “You should check out the salon too, get a new look and shock all your friends back home.”

Xiaojun laughed. “It’s okay. I’m just going to binge some shows back in my room.”

Chenle shrugged. “Alright. But you should definitely check out the magic show tomorrow night. I heard it’s going to be awesome.”

“Noted.”

Chenle pranced off, yelling excitedly on his phone to a ‘Jisung.’ Xiaojun located his room and took a warm shower, watched a few episodes of a Taiwanese drama, and fell asleep to the calming lull of a jazz piano being played somewhere. 

“Is this going to be a thing now?” Xiaojun asked when Lucas slid into the seat beside him the next day at lunch. 

"You mean me ignoring my job to talk to you?" Lucas' eyes danced with mirth. "I hope so."

Xiaojun blushed, twirling his fork around the pesto pasta, wishing he were better at coming up with witty retorts. Lucas’ eyes travelled to the open notebook on his table and he pointed to it. 

“You write?” he asked. 

With anyone else, Xiaojun would’ve grabbed the notebook and thrown it into the sea. He rarely even let his mom peek at his half assed drawings and cringey dialogue. But he nodded, sliding his old notebook across the table to the man beside him.

Xiaojun held his breath as Lucas began to flip through it, pausing on certain pages. What if he laughed? What if he thought Xiaojun was weird?

“There’s nothing great,” he blabbered, “I just like scribbling lyrics and little scenes in my head.”

Lucas was quiet for a few moments, reading through some of Xiaojun’s newer lyrics. “I appreciate that you’re even showing this to me. That’s pretty brave.” He handed it back to Xiaojun. “You have a way with words, Dejun.”

The compliment brought an instant smile to Xiaojun’s face. “That’s… one of the nicest things anyone’s ever told me.” 

Lucas grinned, and the butterflies in Xiaojun's stomach went into a frenzy. It's crazy how such a simple thing can capture one's heart, Xiaojun thought. He wasn't sure if he was weak or if Lucas was _ that _ powerful. Or maybe he was just specifically weak for Lucas.

"Actually, I wanted to know if you were free tonight." Lucas deep voice interrupted his thoughts and Xiaojun blinked.

"Free for what?" he stupidly asked. 

Lucas seemed to shift in his seat, a little nervous. "A magic show? There's a lot of talk about it and it seems really cool because I like magic and I thought maybe you'd want to go see it? But only if you wan-"

"I'd love to," Xiaojun answered, placing his hands on Lucas' to stop his adorable rambling. He remembered Chenle telling him to catch it last night so it must be a big deal. But more importantly, he couldn't believe that Lucas had just asked him out. 

"So it's a date?" Lucas said, ears amusingly pink. 

“Yes,” Xiaojun nodded, unable to stop smiling. “It’s a date.” 

Xiaojun came by the food hall for a quick dinner and waited for Lucas to finish his shift at nine. He came out of the staff room wearing a black jacket over a white shirt that was tucked into a pair of tight fitting jeans. A deceptively simple combo, but gorgeous on him nonetheless.

“Sorry for making you wait,” he said. 

Xiaojun had to practically tear his eyes away from Lucas’ legs because boy, did they look _ great _ tonight. “It’s cool. All cool. I was just enjoying… the view.” The heat creeping up the back of his neck was not helping his situation in the slightest.

“If you say so,” Lucas smirked, annoying hot as he did so. “C’mon, we’ll be late.”

He trailed Lucas to an auditorium where people were already lining up, buzzing and chattering with anticipation. Xiaojun caught a glimpse of the poster; a handsome man in a striped shirt and dark jacket smiled back at him, with a dove and a floating deck of cards. 

“The Magnificent Qian Kun,” Xiaojun read aloud. He sure looked friendly. 

Lucas snapped a picture of the poster. “This is so cool. I’ve watched his YouTube series and he leaves me speechless all the time.”

After entering the auditorium, Xiaojun had to take a moment and revel in the magnificence of it. Navy chairs with velvet cushioning, hundreds of shimmering lights illuminating the walkways and the ceiling, the sleek walls–it looked like a smaller version of the Guangzhou Opera House. 

He and Lucas took a seat in the middle, and the awed murmurs around them only subsided as the lights dimmed. 

A single spotlight shone at the front of the stage. It was pin-drop silent for a whole ten seconds before a man stepped out from behind the curtains and Xiaojun recognised him as Kun. He had a top hat on and a bowtie, looking exactly like those magicians you see at children’s parties. Minus the cape. 

He cleared his throat. “Good evening, everyone! Thank you all for coming down tonight. My name is Qian Kun, as some of you might know.” 

Lucas, along with some other apparent fans in the crowd, clapped enthusiastically. 

“I hope you’re ready for a night of _ magic _,” he whispered dramatically, whipping out a string of tied handkerchiefs. Before Xiaojun could even blink, Kun swept downwards and it turned into a wand. 

“Wha-” Xiaojun gaped, and Lucas laughed gleefully as Kun flicked the tip of it and out popped a bouquet of flowers. 

Kun smiled, handing the bouquet to an elderly lady sitting in the front row. “That was just some basic stuff. But I hope it’s caught your attention, because you’re going to want to watch carefully for the next hour.”

He moved across the stage and clapped his hands, curtains parting to reveal a table with an assortment of items. Kun turned to face the audience. “Now sit back, relax, and most importantly, let your mind be mystified.”

After half an hour of mind blowing tricks and entertaining games, they had a little intermission. Xiaojun was oddly breathless, probably because of the intense knife-throwing trick that Kun had just pulled off with help from his beautiful and sassy assistant, Ten. 

“Wasn’t that amazing?” Lucas said, eyes sparkling with childlike wonder. “I’m so glad we came to watch this.”

Xiaojun softened. “Me too.” 

As the lights dimmed a second time, their hands bumped together. Xiaojun nearly flinched at the spark of electricity that ran up his spine but he stood his ground. Sure enough, after a deep breath, Lucas reached over and intertwined their fingers, palm against palm.

Xiaojun was incredibly glad that the lights were off because he’d never blushed so hard in his life. 

When Xiaojun’s phone buzzed the next morning with a text from Lucas, he nearly fainted. 

“So it wasn’t a dream,” he murmured to himself as he opened the notification. Lucas had sent some pictures of last night, including the one they took together by the cardboard cutout of Kun after the show had ended.

‘meet me by the planetarium at 10am,’ said Lucas’ most recent message. 

Xiaojun looked at the clock.

_ 9:40. _

“Oh shit.”

It took a while for Xiaojun to locate the planetarium but when he did, he was surprised to find Lucas in regular clothes again. This time, he had a blue sweater on. 

“Dejun!” he waved. “I got today’s shift off. So I thought that maybe I could show you my favorite spots on the boat.”

Xiaojun internally swooned. “Lead the way, Lucas.” He nearly jumped when Lucas casually grabbed his wrist and tugged him inside. 

Like everything else on the ship, the planetarium was grand. They spent a good chunk of the morning looking at all the holograms and constellation maps, sitting in on short documentary features and learning about the universe. Xiaojun’s favorite part definitely had to be the virtual space travel experience with the 3D glasses.

Afterwards, they had lunch in a Hawaiian cafe, sipping on fresh coconuts and talking more about random topics. Lucas was just as eager to listen as he was to talk, and Xiaojun loved it. Not once did he feel stupid talking about his interests or hobbies. 

Lucas took Xiaojun to the aquarium, to the suspended bike track, to the indoor gardens with lush flora. They spent the entire day laughing and enjoying the more calm sides of the boat, amenities with not a lot of people, just as Xiaojun preferred. 

Dinner was candlelit, a fusion of Japanese-Italian flavors in a cozy little restaurant with accompanying live piano music. Xiaojun felt as though he were in a dream, and this was one he didn’t want to ever end. The day had been absolutely perfect. No bratty kids, no encounters with rude rich people, just Xiaojun and a cute guy. 

“There’s one more place I want to show you,” Lucas said as they exited the restaurant. “I wanted to save the best for last.”

“Alright,” Xiaojun agreed, curious about where he was being taken. Lucas entered the inner parts of the ship, maneuvering through the winding hallways with ease. Xiaojun grew nervous as they pushed past a ‘ship staff only’ sign and into a cramped room with a ladder. 

He glanced outside but there was no one there. Lucas had begun climbing the ladder but Xiaojun grabbed his sleeve. “Are we allowed to be here?“

Lucas paused. “Probably not.” He laughed at Xiaojun’s scandalised expression. “Don’t worry, Dejun. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take care of it.”

Xiaojun folded his arms. “Promise?”

Lucas climbed a little more, unscrewing the circular door and pushing it upwards. He looked down at Xiaojun and extended his hand. “I promise.”

Relenting, Xiaojun grabbed onto Lucas and climbed his way up. They were outdoors, near all the exhaust pipes. Lucas ducked around them, leading Xiaojun up one more staircase to a tiny alcove. 

“Whoa,” Xiaojun breathed, as he took in the sight before him. They were high up, high enough to overlook the waterslides and bars. The moon was almost full, glowing prettily against the dark sky, and the slow moving cruise liner looked as though it were sailing through the heavens, creating ripples through the ocean of stars.

“Do you like it?” Lucas voice was soft, anticipating. 

Xiaojun turned to Lucas to find him standing closer than he had expected. The light from the boat shone on the right side of his face, and once again Xiaojun was rendered speechless at how stunning Lucas was.

“It’s wonderful,” he exhaled.

Time seemed to stand still as Lucas’ eyes darted down to his lips and leaned in slightly. Xiaojun swallowed, nervous, contemplating whether he really wanted this to happen. Part of him wanted to kiss Lucas so desperately, to pull him forward and just forget about everything else. But the other part of him didn’t want everything to happen so fast. They’ve only known each other for a few days. 

Their noses touched and Lucas’ eyes fluttered to a close. All Xiaojun had to do was to close that two-centimeter gap between their mouths. 

But he didn’t.

Xiaojun placed a hand on Lucas’ chest. “I-I can’t.” He could feel Lucas’ heart beating fast.

Lucas immediately backed away, face red. “Oh no. I’m so sorry Dejun, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” 

“No no, it’s fine,” he assured. “I just… want to take it slow. If that’s okay with you.”

Lucas sighed in relief. He moved forward again, this time taking both of Xiaojun’s hands in his own. “Of course. I’m totally okay with that.”

A cool night breeze swept through the air, and Xiaojun fixed his fringe. “I had a really great time today,” he murmured bashfully. “I don’t think I’ve smiled this much in a long time. Thank you.”

Lucas squeezed his hands. “It was my pleasure. I’m glad I could make you smile.”

They made their way back to the cabins, Lucas humming quietly as they walked with their hands clasped together. Not once did either of them let go, not until they stopped at Xiaojun’s room. 

“You can call me Yukhei, by the way. That’s my real name.”

Xiaojun blinked. “It is? And here I thought I was the only one going by an alias.”

Lucas snickered. “Lucas is just my English name. It’s easier for most of the customers to pronounce. But since I call you Dejun, it’s only fair that you call me Yukhei.”

“Yukhei.” It was unfamiliar, but Dejun liked it. In the narrow hallway with dimmed lights, it almost seemed intimate.

“Goodnight, Dejun,” he lifted Dejun’s left hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss on it. “See you tomorrow.”

Xiaojun watched as he walked away, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he looked down at the spot on his hand that Lucas had just kissed. As he curled up in bed that night, he couldn’t stop thinking about how warm Lucas’ lips had felt. 

“Damn you, Yukhei.”

Seeing as Lucas had to work again the next day, Xiaojun spent some time alone again. He caught a short circus performance and was particularly mesmerised by the acrobat performance, the way they effortlessly glided through the air on trapezes and swung on hoops, falling and spinning and dancing with danger. 

He did some laps in the pool and went to get a massage, taking videos of all the things he did for his mother’s sake. As he chewed on a grilled kebab, he wondered how his mother would react if he told her that he met a guy. 

Xiaojun looked out at the sunset, feeling unusually at ease. He and Lucas had a conversation at lunch about childhood dreams, food, and travelling, and it just put him in a good mood despite his one run-in with three annoying kids who were waiting in line at the juice bar and were being fussy about the ‘no-straw’ policy.

As he made his way to dinner, he passed by a group of tourists his age. Except they weren’t just any tourists.

“Yo! Dejun!” Yangyang grabbed his arm and grinned sunnily at him. “Haven’t seen you in days, dude! This ship is massive, isn’t it?”

Xiaojun’s eyes immediately looked around for Hendery, dreading the thought of talking to him once more. Hendery stood with two girls, one with brown braids and the other with straight black hair. He looked at Xiaojun with disdain, although he didn’t seem as hostile as before, not making any snide comments and choosing to focus on the girls instead.

“We were just about to go to dinner. You wanna join?” Xiaojun couldn’t seem to say no to Yangyang. He was like an excitable puppy. And no one wanted to be a puppy-kicker.

“Sure,” he shrugged.

As they walked, Yangyang decided it was a good time for introductions. “This is Yuqi and Shuhua.” the two girls greeted him with a smile. “Yuqi’s dad has some government position in Beijing and Shuhua’s family has a history of designing high fashion. And of course you know Hendery. His family’s always been rich.”

_ Explains a lot _, he wanted to say, but controlled himself. It was a little strange that rich people always had to expound on how they got their money or what business their family was in, but it was probably just for their ego. Who went to the most prestigious high school, who got a pet horse for their 8th birthday. It was all just bragging rights.

“So what do your parents do?” Yuqi asked innocently as they sat down at a table for six. 

Xiaojun suddenly felt small. “My mom runs a noodle shop. My dad works in an office for a printing company.”

“Oh,” Yuqi said, a little shocked. “That’s… cute.”

Hendery whispered something to Shuhua and they giggled. Xiaojun wanted to run. But Yangyang, ever the sweetheart, looked at Xiaojun in awe. “Whoa, a noodle shop! She must cook really well.”

Xiaojun gave him a small smile. “Yeah. She’s awesome.”

He caught a glimpse of Lucas on the other side of the dining hall, hair pushed up as per usual. He waited for him to turn and then waved, catching the attention of the other four. They looked over to where Xiaojun was waving and Yuqi squinted. 

"Hey… is that? Oh my gosh, it is! Lucas!"

Xiaojun froze as she began waving aggressively. Lucas turned to the table and smiled at Yuqi, excusing himself and taking long strides towards them. But as his eyes shifted and fell upon Xiaojun, his smile faded.

“Long time no see,” he chuckled nervously, fist-bumping Yuqi. 

She tossed her braids over her shoulder. “I’ll say. I haven’t seen you since you dropped out and disappeared off the face of the planet.”

“Dropped out?” Xiaojun questioned, completely lost. 

Lucas shifted from foot to foot. “I um–”

“Guy drops out of an expensive boarding school without a single goodbye,” Yuqi tells them. “Good thing you had grades decent enough to get into a university, right? I saw it on your Instagram bio. Hospitality though? I thought you were sick of the family business.”

Xiaojun’s eyes narrowed. “Expensive boarding school? I thought you lived in a middle-class neighborhood in Hong Kong.”

Yuqi scoffed. “What? He and I were neighbors in Beijing. He moved there when he was a preschooler. Kid had a personal chauffeur and everything.”

“Whoa wait, you’re _ that _ Lucas Wong?” Yangyang sat up, suddenly intrigued by the conversation. “The Luxury Hotel Wongs! Damn, you guys are huge in Taiwan.”

Something in Xiaojun’s gut twisted; he felt like someone had stabbed him with a dagger, sharp and painful. Lucas couldn’t even meet his gaze, a pained smile on his face as Yangyang recounted his latest holiday in Kaohsiung.

Xiaojun stood up abruptly, plates and cutlery rattling on the table. “I just remembered I had to go somewhere,” he said. He suddenly felt like crying. And he did _ not _want to be in front of these people when it happened. 

He spun on his heel and stormed off, wiping hastily at the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. How stupid of him to believe that Lucas was a decent person when the guy had the audacity to lie so blatantly to Xiaojun’s face without a second thought. 

Heavy footsteps approached from behind. “Dejun, wait!” Lucas called, but Xiaojun kept walking, rushing down the stairs, not really knowing where he was headed. 

“Dejun,” Lucas pleaded, grasping his sleeve. “I can explain.”

Xiaojun turned to face him. “Why did you lie to me?” 

People around them kept glancing, probably because Lucas was still in uniform. Lucas tugged Xiaojun into a more private balcony and sighed. “I… wanted to impress you.”

“Impress me?” Xiaojun was incredulous. “How exactly would you coming from a middle-class family do that?”

Frustrated, Lucas ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, okay? You just gave the impression that you really disliked rich people. I thought maybe it would turn you off if I told you the truth.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re just like the rest of them,” Xiaojun snapped, and instantly regretted it.

Lucas frowned, eyes hardening. “Yeah. Maybe I am. Why does that bother you so much?”

For once, words refused to come out of Xiaojun’s throat. Lucas’ question was so simple, yet so complicated to answer. He couldn’t really pin down one reason. They were arrogant, conceited, always assumed that they were right. But he couldn’t say it out loud. There was so much more to it: all the times he tolerated the bullying from the upper middle class boys who stole his lunch money, all the times he told his friends that he couldn’t afford to go out on the weekends because it was either that or a week’s worth of his father’s medicine. 

The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. He sounded so childish, so hyper fixated on all of these negative experiences to fuel his anger.

“You don’t know, do you?” Lucas asked softly.

Xiaojun swallowed, his pride refusing to give way. He didn’t need to explain himself to Lucas, neither did he want to hear his explanation. He bit his lip, feeling himself waver, and decided to go before he actually did. Wordlessly, he pushed the door open and walked away. 

Lucas didn’t follow.

“You look terrible!” were the first words spoken to Xiaojun the next day. 

He’d eaten cup noodles for breakfast and moped around in his room the whole morning. There was no text from Lucas, which was expected, but he couldn’t manage to find the courage to text him first either. He felt like an utter failure, roaming the boat alone until he found solace on one of the benches in the butterfly garden. He immersed himself in writing an angsty piece, but nothing he penned down seemed satisfactory. 

Sometime around noon, Chenle had appeared out of nowhere and plopped down beside him, saying those three words. As if Xiaojun didn’t know it himself.

“Thanks,” he groaned. 

Chenle cocked his head. “What’s wrong, dude? It’s the second last day of the cruise! You should be doing something exciting.”

Memories of the past few days flickered through his mind and he sighed. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for a while.”

His answer didn’t seem to appease Chenle, as the boy grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. “You know what will cheer you up? Some great food. Let’s go!” Xiaojun had no time to object as Chenle lugged him down to the seafood buffet. It was bustling with people, waitresses in lobster red aprons sped by with platters of clams and abalone balanced on their fingers. 

Chenle wasted no time, grabbing a plate and shoving it into Xiaojun’s chest. It was still warm. 

“Eat up, my friend. Eat your sorrows away.”

Thus went the next few hours, Chenle chatting to Xiaojun and helping him forget about his sad feelings. He didn’t seem to lose his energy, always having a new topic to talk about. He was refreshing. 

At one point, he invited his friend over to sit with them. Xiaojun’s jaw dropped as he recognised the slender acrobat.

“Hey, I saw you at the circus performance! You were amazing,” he told the acrobat. 

“Thanks,” he said, with a voice deeper than Xiaojun anticipated. In contrast to his powerful, bold moves on stage, this guy was a lot more soft spoken.

“Sorry I couldn’t watch, Sicheng-ge. Dad wanted me to go do something for him.” Chenle spooned out a chunk of crab meat and wolfed it down in two seconds.

Sicheng shook his head, stealing a slice of mushroom pizza from Chenle’s plate. “It’s alright. You can always watch some other time. Did you know,” Sicheng turned to Xiaojun, “that his father owns the whole ship?”

Xiaojun wasn’t sure if he heard correctly. “Huh?”

Sicheng laughed. “Yeah. The whole cruise. His dad owns it. Never would’ve guessed, right?”

As Chenle and Sicheng chowed down on their food, Xiaojun digested this new piece of information.

Chenle, the kid who wore band shirts and ripped jeans. Chenle the tall, gangly boy with sharp cheeks and a new hair color every day, was the son of a multi-billionaire. Xiaojun was dumbstruck. All this time, the richest kid on the boat had been nothing short of magnanimous to him. 

_ Why does that bother you so much? _

Lucas’ words rang loud and clear in Xiaojun’s head. 

It was shameful for him to admit, but maybe he was in the wrong. He’d been hypocritical, condemning people for talking about their riches when he’d try to find fault with people just because they had more money than him. He’d been so focused on channeling his childhood hatred and jealousy into anyone that made him feel bad about himself that he didn’t ever stop to consider the obvious: it didn’t matter. 

It didn’t matter how much money you had. You could be rich and kind. You could be poor and rude. It all came down to a matter of how you treat the people around you. And he’d been unfair to Lucas. He’d been unfair to throw these stereotypes on people when Yangyang and Chenle had shown him unwavering warmth and care.

“I hope the food made you feel better,” Chenle grinned, wiping his mouth. “I always solve my problems by eating.”

Xiaojun’s lips curled up. “It did. Thanks, Chenle.” 

“No problem. I’m gonna go hang with Jisung. Seeya!” Sicheng said his goodbyes as well and followed after, back to the auditorium to prepare for another show.

With these newfound realisations and a stomach full of seafood, Xiaojun went to take one last stroll around the perimeter of the ship. He watched a few dance performances by the pool, won a stuffed dolphin from one of the claw machines. Everyone seemed happy, living it up, enjoying their last evening on the _S.S._ _Vision_. Xiaojun couldn’t even bring himself to go to his usual dinner place because he hadn’t quite figured out his apology speech to Lucas yet. 

He ended up back at the restaurant that he and Lucas had eaten dinner at. A table for one, he said, earning a curious glance from the elderly waiter. It was late for a meal, almost 10pm, and Xiaojun was still satiated from the earlier lunch buffet. He ordered a piece of cake and some root beer and watched the pianist on the other side of the room. 

Young, with medium length black hair and a pair of circular framed glasses. He played with closed eyes, fingers gentle and smooth over the keys, swaying with the tune. Xiaojun observed as he switched tempo, incorporating some blues, tapping his foot to the rhythm. He played song after song, not even waiting for an applause from the people at the restaurant.

Half an hour passed before the pianist finished. The restaurant had emptied; only Xiaojun and a few lone stragglers were still there, all the kitchen staff had retired to their rooms. The young pianist stretched and cracked his wrists before leaving the stage. 

“Oh,” he said, as he walked by Xiaojun’s table. “You’re still here.”

Xiaojun nearly jumped, not expecting the sudden conversation. “Y-Yeah. You noticed me?”

The young man chuckled softly. “You were the only one paying attention to the music. Of course I noticed you.” After a beat, “Are you doing alright?”

It was the first time in Xiaojun’s life that a stranger had stopped by to ask him such a question. Xiaojun hesitated. But the pianist simply stared, patiently waiting for an answer. When Xiaojun didn’t respond, he smiled softly and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay to not be alright sometimes,” he told him. “Don’t be afraid to admit the hard things.”

Sometimes, good advice came from your closest family and friends, the ones who know you well. Other times, as Xiaojun realised that night, a chance encounter with a complete stranger would let you hear the exact words that you needed to hear. 

_ Don’t be afraid to admit the hard things _.

Xiaojun stood up and shook the pianist’s hands. “You’re an angel.”

“No,” he replied, a little bewildered. “I’m just Renjun.”

He pulled Renjun in for a quick hug and the guy squeaked in surprise. Xiaojun bade him a hasty farewell and ran, hoping that perhaps Lucas would still miraculously be at the dining hall. As he dashed around people, ignoring the chilly night wind against his skin, he could only think of one phrase.

_ I’m sorry _.

The dining hall was empty. Chairs tucked in, lights off, the numbers 11:18 glowing red on a digital clock. Xiaojun sighed. He ran downstairs, upstairs, back to the places that Lucas had taken him to. He was on a goose chase for nothing, a chicken running around with its head cut off. Dejected, he slumped back towards his room. 

Upon rounding the corner, he noticed a tall figure standing by his door. He raised his hand to the door and rapped on the wood with his knuckles, sighing again when he received no answer. Lucas was about to turn away when Xiaojun shouted his name.

“Lucas, wait!”

Xiaojun sprinted down the hallway, ramming into Lucas’ chest and catching him off guard with a massive hug. 

“Whoa,” Lucas said, holding Xiaojun tightly. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” he gasped, really out of breath. He hadn’t done that much running since Phys. Ed. “I’m sorry. I was a massive dick to you for running away when I should’ve given you a proper answer. I’ve had a lot of shitty experiences in life because of my financial status and that’s why I dislike rich people. I hate being insecure. I hate feeling like I’m worthless just because I don’t have a few dollars.” He’s clinging to Lucas’ shirt, on the verge of crying, but feeling oddly relieved. Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

“But I’m sorry,” he said, looking up at Lucas. “For thinking you were all the same. Because you’re not.”

Lucas brushed Xiaojun’s fringe aside. “I’m sorry that people have made you feel that way, Dejun.”

“It’s okay. I’ve had a few encounters today that made me realise that we’re all humans, rich, poor, middle-class, whatever. Sometimes there are just shitty individuals who make your day feel worse. And sometimes,” he reached up to cup Lucas’ face, “There are people who make you feel like life’s worth all the struggle.”

Lucas leaned into his touch, holding Xiaojun’s wrist against his cheek with a slight curl of fingers. “I’m sorry I lied to you,” he began. 

“To keep the story short, I dropped out of school because I was tired of being surrounded by the same pretentious assholes who only cared about my looks and my money. I couldn’t even go on a date without someone asking how much my net worth was.”

“That’s awful.”

“Nah, It was a little selfish of me. Up until I started working three jobs to try to survive on my own, I’d been taking everything for granted. My parents, my education, my money. Rich brats like me know nothing about how the real world works. We’re always trapped in this bubble of perfection, the silver spoon in our mouths. So I learned how to swallow my pride, went back home, apologised to my parents. I got into university, my dad found me this job, and I was starting over again.

“And then I met you,” he smiled. “I met you, and you were nothing like anyone I’d ever met before. You were the first person that I actually, genuinely liked.”

Xiaojun smiled at that. 

“So I told a little white lie because it felt good. It felt really great to not have someone thinking about my money, but about me as a human being. I hope you know that I never intended to hurt you.” With that last sentence, Lucas’ arms tightened around his waist. 

Xiaojun leaned his head against Lucas’ shoulder. It wasn’t the most romantic of places to be hugging, but he didn’t really care. Not when Lucas was stroking the hairs on his nape.

“I’m so glad my mom accidentally bought that sketchy cereal box,” he murmured. 

Lucas laughed, and Xiaojun felt the vibrations against his skin. “Me too, Dejun.”

“Me too.”

It was a bittersweet feeling, watching as the boat pulled into the port. The skies were a pale blue, covered by a thin blanket of clouds. The perfect weather for the ending of a story. Xiaojun rolled his suitcase along the floor, following the crowd as they disembarked. As he walked down towards the ground, he felt a hand tap his shoulder. 

“Hi,” Renjun smiled at him, handsome in his dark blue coat and antique briefcase in hand.

“Good day,” Xiaojun replied, moving so that Renjun could walk beside him. 

They moved in silence for a while before they were stopped by traffic. Renjun glanced at him. “Did everything work out?” he asked.

The river of bodies began to move again and Xiaojun stepped off the plank and onto the unfamiliar ground of Tokyo Harbor. He looked back at the towering boat, pristine white as always, rows and rows of spotless windows, so unbelievably grand. He imagined Lucas to be watching him from one of those windows. He said he’d be staying on for the next ride as it sailed to Korea.

Xiaojun didn’t know what was in store for them in the future, didn’t even know when he’d be able to see Lucas a second time. But as he reached into his pocket and fiddled with the edge of a folded piece of paper, thinking about the single Instagram handle scribbled into it with a cheap pen, Xiaojun felt reassured that everything would turn out fine. So he turned to Renjun, smiling brightly as he answered with unwavering confidence,

“Yes. Yes it did.”

**Author's Note:**

> my google search history:  
\- cruise ship amenities  
\- nautical slang  
\- pirates  
\- fancy european dishes  
\- circus


End file.
